


no light, no light (in your bright blue eyes)

by ivyalexandrias



Category: The Magnus Archives (Podcast)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Experimental Style, Gen, No beta we kayak like Tim, mentions of mike's "death" in passing, mentions of the buried and the vast, nonverbal mike, prose??? i think?, seriously this is just me testing out some shit with my writing, setting up for it?? i dont know?, title from no light by florence + the machine, was originally going to be pwp but. theres no porn just me??
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-10-15
Updated: 2020-10-15
Packaged: 2021-03-09 05:14:18
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 612
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27019369
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ivyalexandrias/pseuds/ivyalexandrias
Summary: for a long, horrible moment, mike is silent, and jon feels dread start to curl in his stomach. then, without warning, he starts to cough and splutter, dirt spilling from his lips even as he sucks in a gasping breath, eyes snapping open to meet jon's. there is a moment of utter stillness, mike's impossible blue eyes searching jon's face, before everythingdrops.
Relationships: Michael "Mike" Crew & Jonathan "Jon" Sims | The Archivist, theres some jonmike but its BARELY there so
Comments: 5
Kudos: 57





	no light, no light (in your bright blue eyes)

jon's nails are cracked and bleeding as he digs, but he still doesn't stop. he knows, he  _ Knows _ that mike is still down there, and if there is anything he can do, if there is one death he can take off of his shoulders, he cannot stop. the headlights of his car illuminate the scene, casting long shadows across the ground before him.

the sun is coming up by the time he unearths a splash of sky blue, a familiar scarf. he gasps softly, and his efforts- which had previously become subdued- start again with renewed effort. pale skin, cut through with a rough, fractaling scar, a crumpled white shirt, stained with dirt and blood. finally, he uncovers the full body, and he quickly hooks his hands behind mike's shoulders and pulling him up into a sitting position. 

for a long, horrible moment, mike is silent, and jon feels dread start to curl in his stomach. then, without warning, he starts to cough and splutter, dirt spilling from his lips even as he sucks in a gasping breath, eyes snapping open to meet jon's. there is a moment of utter stillness, mike's impossible blue eyes searching jon's face, before everything  _ drops _ .

jon, thank god, had been prepared for that, and took a huge breath just in time. he can't speak, breath fluttering in his chest like a trapped bird, so he instead bats uselessly at mike's shoulders, keeping his gaze. the smaller man doesn't respond at first, expression blank and distant. 

slowly, his face begins to clear, lucidity returning in small increments. jon continues to shove at him, both in an attempt to bring him back to full consciousness, and in an attempt to escape the endless falling.

after what could be an hour or a minute, his expression clears the rest of the way, and his lips quirk into a small smile. jon hits the ground, even though he was never falling in the first place, and his breath is punched out of him with a low, pained whine. mike's eyes are searching, that impossibly bright blue burning into jon's  _ soul _ . 

"archivist." he croaks out, voice raspy from disuse, before launching into another coughing fit. jon pats him on the back hesitantly, trying to help in what way he can. mike eventually stops, and jon stands, offering him a hand. mike stares at it for a long moment, confusion flickering across his expression.

"come on." jon murmurs, motioning slightly. "you probably want a shower." mike takes his hand with a soft chuckle, allowing himself to be pulled to his feet. he staggers almost immediately, but jon catches him, slinging one of his arms over his shoulders. mike gives him a look, but doesn't protest as he's led back to jon's car.

-

jon listens to the sound of the shower running as he boils water, a tea bag already waiting in a mug. mike hadn't said a word since jon found him, other than when jon had first unearthed him, the word weighing heavy on his lips like a prayer. 

mike's clothes were unsalvageable, too stained and dirty from months in a shallow grave, even with the influence of the Buried. it's ironic, he supposes, that mike would find himself trapped there, after years spent as close to the sky as he could get.

the shower turns off, and mike emerges a moment later, one of jon's shirts hanging low on his collarbone, shock white hair tousled, still slightly damp. jon is struck with the ridiculous urge to kiss him, then. instead, he pours the hot water into the mug in front of him, before offering it the the smaller man.

"tea?"

**Author's Note:**

> if you saw this when it was still on anon, no you didnt <3  
> didnt change anything about it, just fixed some typos and took it off anon


End file.
